wide mouth masons, shard glass, steamed
cabbage, boiling water n beets, some days
her countertops wept and the white tile floor
was a blistering purple sea
let us remember the curved lines bracketing her
parenthetical smile
sometimes she missed the 401 exit to _____ Street
and followed the broken line to Guysborough bi-
secting her fists, not long before the beetles came
and the old pines laid down their weary branches
she surrendered to Science: a needle-punctured
landscape, pretending Prince George had a coast-
line, she traded the shit stank of pulp for the scent
of Atlantic sea salt
she was a card reader, a fortune teller, a knocked-
over stop sign that said, No one promised you a life
without corners
she taught her daughter how to make a fist, to un-
tuck the thumb, expose it just enough to take the
impact of a punch without breaking
she giggled when he called it croshit, after she took
to crocheting afghans and doilies, nothing prepared
him for a widower's life of small cups of soup & half
sandwiches
she leaves behind a question mark, a flickering
light, and a northern village of bones, a peaceful scene
staged on a lake in the quiet corner of morning, as if
she has every intention
of coming back
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